Bosio Macomer was somewhat surprised that morning, when his old servant informed him that Taquisara was at the door.  He knew him but slightly in the way of acquaintance, though very well by name and reputation, and he wondered what had brought him at that hour.  He was inclined to say that he could not receive him, offering as an excuse that he was ill, which was almost true.  But he reflected that such a man must have a good reason for wishing to see him.  He remembered, too, that the Duca had spoken of him as Gianluca’s friend, and in the terrible position in which Bosio himself was placed, it seemed to him possible that one of Gianluca’s friends might help him,—­how, he had not the power of concentrating his mind enough to guess,—­and he ordered the servant to admit him.

Bosio had not slept that night.  He had spent the six hours between midnight and the December dawn in his easy-chair before the fireplace.  Once or twice, towards morning, he had felt sleep creeping upon him through sheer physical exhaustion, but he had fought it off, afraid to lose one of the precious moments which he still had before him in which to think over what he should do.  They were few enough, for a man of his nature.

He knew the absolute truth of all that Matilde had told him, and he had even suspected much of it before she had first spoken.  He knew that his brother had secretly ruined himself in financial speculations, in which he had employed Lamberto Squarci as his agent, and that, with Squarci’s assistance, Gregorio had staved off the consequences of his actions by a fraudulent use of Veronica’s fortune,—­of such part of it as he could control, of course,—­absorbing much of the enormous income, and even, from time to time, obtaining the consent of Cardinal Campodonico for the sale of certain lands, on pretence of making more profitable investments.  During fully ten years, Gregorio’s management of the estate must have been a systematic fraud upon Veronica Serra, carried on with sufficient skill to evade all inquiry from the cardinal.  Gregorio’s fictitious reputation as a strictly honourable man had helped him, together with the fact that his wife was the ward’s own aunt, which was a strong presumption in favour of her honesty as a guardian.  Then, too, it was generally believed that Macomer was a miser, and much richer than he allowed any one to suppose.  As for the accounts of the estate, they could bear inspection, as Matilde had said, provided that no attempt were made to verify the existence of all the property therein described.

The worst of the case was that Squarci had been an accomplice from the beginning, and had doubtless enriched himself while Macomer had lost everything.  In the event of a suit brought by the ward against the guardians, it would be in Squarci’s power to turn evidence in favour of Veronica, and expose the whole enormous theft; and it would be like him to keep on the side of wealth against ruin.  For Veronica was still very rich, in spite of all that had been stolen.